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Title: Blade (Mythklok, Chapter 39)
Author: tikistitch
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Children, past and future
Warnings: Slash, AU, OCs
Notes: Notes after the jump.

Cross-posted to [livejournal.com profile] capslokdethklok.

So, this week in Land of the Mythklok (a very silly place) somebody did this.

And then somebody else did this.

And then yet a third person did this!

So, um, this is just, you know, a new chapter. From me. I hopes you ams nots be disappoint.




Mythklok is a Metalocalypse AU in which Charles is Sariel, an angel who fell to earth and subsequently got adopted by a death metal band. If you're behind and for some strange reason wanna catch up, the best place is my fic journal, [livejournal.com profile] tikific, where you are welcome to come visit the bits I’ve written and maybe poke them with a pointed stick. I've also written a general introduction in case you wanna jump in the middle of things, or have forgotten all this stuff due to Real Life.

Last time: Charles was stuck in an alternate universe, but he got better. Seth has acquired an angel army and declared himself Grand Duke of Australia, and persuaded his sort of thick parents to emigrate. Dick Knubber is threatening to quit the band. And Nathan is growing a beard.



Blade

Valhalla….

"Bast! Dood! My brudder ain't a feckin elder gawd! I grew up wit' him in feckin' Wisconsin!"

"It is most definitely him. The little fool reincarnates every few years, and we need to go slay him again."

Pickles was by now fairly used to hanging out with supernatural beings, yet he still found Bast's glance unnerving. According to Lady Raz, the Egyptians were a bit older, from a time before humans. They were quite powerful, but also tended to be unpredictable, at least to humans and other gods. Fortunately, they seemed to mostly care about their own internal politics, so rarely bothered others.

"He's nawt a gahd! He's jest an asshole!"

"Masquerading as a human is a clever guise for an infant. Else, we seek them out and slay them in their crib."

Pickles gulped. "Dood. Dat's sorta ... hard core.

"We prevent much tribulation that way. Much the same as your friend, Sariel, was slain at birth in that other universe."

"Yeh. See? Dat's why you don' doo dat!"

Bast gave him an inscrutable glance, switching her tail.

Hard core, these dudes, thought Pickles.



"I wanna get this shit done and get back," Charles grumbled.

"You haven't an inclination as to why Dick Knubbler might be unhappy?" Ganesh asked, rubbing his chin. He was still not quite used to the absence of whiskers there.

"I was never very good at Common. And he's hard to understand, even for a Dominion. Wait, what the fuck..." He spotted Raziel across the yard, walking, her little hand gripping the elbow of the mordant Grey angel, Phanuel. He started after her, but found a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Maybe...." Ganesh began. "Maybe, give them a moment or two," he finally said.

"What the fuck would that guy have to talk to Raziel about? You're not telling me they're consulting on couture for the evil twins!" But Ganesh was no longer listening, having just torn off (as much as someone as graceful as Ganesh could be described as tearing) in a different direction. "Uh-oh!" said Sariel, suddenly realizing what had made the god hurry away.

Valhalla had another new visitor, just emerging from the woods. He was smoking a cigar. At his belt, he wore two machetes.

“You are Ogoun Sen Jacque, father of Sariel?" Ganesh, striding up, inquired of the new arrival.

“Yeah. And who the fuck are you, pretty boy?"

Jacque was a god, and could therefore well survive being knocked 50 feet across Wotan’s yard. But it definitely woke him up.

Ganesh was standing over him. “I am Shri Ganesha, Lord of Hosts, Remover of Obstacles, and Acting Lord of Destruction. Most pleased to finally make your acquaintance.”

“What the fucking fuck?” Jacque squalled. “Sharl! Will you pull this guy off me?”

Sariel was beside Ganesh, grinning. “Uh, I think the answer to that is, no.”

“All right,” Jacque told them, tossing away his ruined cigar. “Ganesha, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Really?" asked Ganesh, his lovely eyes narrowing in warning. "Because I have absolutely no compunction regarding harming you.”

“But I’m his Papa!”

“You kidnapped him and held him against his will.”

“Look, he’s fucking gotten over it. Let’s go smoke some cigars, and talk.”

“I have just passed my time fearing for his life, not knowing his fate, and you mean to make it up with some stinking cigars?”

Sariel smiled. He could not recall ever hearing Ganesh sounding quite this homicidal. It was very cool.

“Look! I’m a fucking asshole!” Jacque protested. “I’m sorry.”

Ganesh glowered again, but then stuck a hand out to assist Jacque to his feet.

“This guy is your boyfriend?” Jacque asked Sariel.

“Yep,” Sariel grinned.

“Kinda protective sort?”

“A while back some guy tried to kill him," Sariel cheerily informed him. "So I threw him in my volcano. While it was blowing up.”

“Holy fuck,” said Jacque. “Hey, your volcano you say?”

“Yep.”

“I think I like this fucking universe!”

“Ogoun. Sen, Jacque.” The voice was absolutely unmistakable, each syllable enunciated like strokes of a razor.

“Well, I did like this universe. Hey, Phanny,” Jacque called.

“Do not. Call me. That,” the Grey angel warned.

"I'm just here to see my boy! And my Tzaphy!"

"YOUR. Tazphkiel?"

"She's as much mine as yours, you old rat fucker."



Ganesh and Charles were walking away from the melee. “I do apologize,” Ganesh said. “I fear I was a bit in-“ But the rest of his thought was lost as, after turning a corner, Charles pushed him up against a tree and was trying to use his paltry sum of two hands to remove all of Ganesh’s clothing at once.

“Where’s … your … room?” Charles mumbled into Ganesh’s neck.

“What?”

“I need to fuck you now. If we do it out here, Raziel will find us, and I don’t wanna be interrupted.”

Ganesh laughed. “I just had them put my things in the room you usually-“

And then they weren’t there any more.



"Jacque. You currently stand in violation of so many laws. That it is easier to list. That which you have not. Offended. Jaywalking," Phanuel counted on a finger. "Spitting on the sidewalk. And, that is all."

"What the fuck business do you have here, angel? I bet it ain't just seein' your Sister,” Jacque answered.

"It is. No matter. To you."

"Might be a matter to others. You know I can't keep a fucking secret. Not when I have some rum in me."

"Are you threatening-" Phanuel started, but he felt a small hand entwined with his.

"It's already known, Jacque," Raziel told him. "Now, you two, as you know, Wotan and I rule this place with an iron fist. Two iron fists, actually. So, play nice, or I'll send you both packing. Clear?"

"Crystal," muttered Jacque.

"We're going to let Jacque see Sariel. And Tzaphkiel," she told Phanuel. "As long as he behaves himself."

"What the fuck constitutes behaving myself, Little Missy?" Jacque grumbled.

"I think you'll find the king and I share a trait: whimsy," Raziel grinned.

"So, I have no fucking idea,” Jacque concluded.

"Completely arbitrary!" Raziel told him.

"Sister," Phanuel said quietly.

Wotan had pushed Tazphkiel's chair out into the sun.

Raziel gripped Phanuel very tightly by his elbow.

Jacque drew suddenly quiet.

And Lady Tzaphkiel: it was extraordinary. Years fell off her in that moment. She was young. Radiant.

Jacque was on his knees, next to her, curling a tendril of her hair in a hand.

"Hair like starlight," he murmured.

Raziel's tiny gripped tightened, and Phanuel found himself being led away. Wotan's hand clapped his shoulder.

"You a drinking man? I've got some very decent single malt inside," the king told him.

"I found I have of late. Developed a taste. For rum," the angel told him sadly.



“Why are you fucking flipping out over this?” Nathan asked. He tossed back his mead and sat back. Mead was pretty fucking awesome. He scratched his new beard. This Viking shit, it was cool.

“Dey’re my parents, dood!” Pickles grumbled.

“Yeah, but, maybe they like Australia? There’s cool shit there. Like, uh, kangaroos. And shit.”

“But Set’ is evil.”

“Yeah, he’s a pretty creepy dude all right. But your parents like him.”

“Dood! My parents are assholes!”

“Then why don’t you let ‘em move to Australia?” Nathan asked reasonably. “Bet there’s lots of assholes there. And you know, they have shr-“

“DON’ FECKIN’ SAY SHRIMP ON DA BARBIE!”

“Dude! Mellow the fuck out! I know, why don’t we get some big fucking horses from Wotan, and we’ll go out riding, like me and Skwisgaar….”

“I don’t like ridin’ horses,” Pickles pouted, irritably sitting down on the couch next to Nathan.

“But we could get all Viking and shit! C’mon, it’ll be cool. HEY, SKWISGAAR?”

“Ummm?” Skwisgaar’s head suddenly popped up over the back of one of the other couches. There was the sound of female giggling.

“C’mon, dude! Pickles is being a DOUCHE, let’s get some horses and ride around and slay demons and shit.”

“Pffft. Ja. OK. My dad ams tells me dere ams some slimes demons nearby.”

“Uh, slime demons, dood?” Pickles wondered. “Ew. Dat sounds … messy?”

“Naw, this will be AWESOME!”



What Ganesh really wanted was a cigarette.

Sariel used to be able to smoke like this, upside down, hanging off the bed. But, no, he really couldn't justify smoking around Sariel. Perhaps a cocktail? But, would he be able to drink from this position? Well, it would make an interesting experiment. Ganesh, sensing an opportunity, had requested and received a full wings-out sexual thrashing. As a result of this enthusiastic erotic congress, every single muscle in his body was now in its most relaxed state. He found himself feeling warm and happy and loving to all creatures. Especially a creature that could potentially fetch him a dry martini.

“I may just make a practice of knocking over your father," he told Sariel, as he saw the angel’s legs walking by.

“Good. Asshole probably deserves it.” Sariel had pulled on some pajama bottoms (Ganesh's, as Sariel did now own any pajamas) but had not yet reverted to his Court Form, so he rattled his silvery wings for emphasis as he said this.

There was a knock on the door. “Are you guys decent?”

“No! We’re totally naked!” Sariel shouted.

Ganesh laughed and pulled on a robe.

“Ah, nothing I haven’t seen before," Raziel shouted through the door.

“No, Ganesh is researching for the Kama Sutra, and we’re in a really bizarre and disturbing new sexual position!” Sariel shouted.

“Wow, not even touching. That’s pretty sexy.” Raziel grinned.

“Why did you open the fucking door?” Sariel asked Ganesh.

“I’ll be in and out in under a minute. Just like you,” she smirked at Sariel, who glowered and rattled his wings for good measure. She hopped onto the bed. “I just wanted you to hear it from me before you heard it from anybody else. Phanuel is my father. OK, done.” And she hopped back off the bed and started for the door.

Sariel grabbed her up and tossed her back on the bed.

“WHAT?”

“Phanuel. Father. Which part didn’t click?” Raziel asked, studying her manicure.

Sariel stood looking at her for a moment. He irritably rustled his wings. “How long have you known?”

She expelled some air. “Wotan figured it out. And Phanuel admitted it, and asked us to shut up about it. That’s why I haven’t been going to meetings with Phanuel, because we thought Ganesh would figure it out if he saw us together. Then, just now your Papa tried to blackmail him with it, so I told Jacque that everybody already knew. Which you didn’t but I’m telling you now. So, you do.”

“That was agreeably complicated!” Ganesh smiled.

Sariel was still staring. He thoughtlessly unfurled his wings and gave them a small flap. “So," he said at length, “we’re really related after all?”

“How so?” Raziel asked.

“Well, they’re twins. Tzaphkiel and Phanuel….”

She shrugged and kicked her legs. “I guess so.”

“You’ve been going around for eons telling everybody you’re my fucking Sister!”

“Did that really matter to you?” Raziel actually looked a bit hurt.

Sariel opened his mouth, but happened to glance at Ganesh, who had an unmistakable “Watch it!” expression on his face.

Sariel sat down on the bed next to Raziel. “Uh. No. No, it didn’t.”

Raziel scowled at her fingers. He nudged her with a wing. She looked up, surprised. And then she looked at him and smiled.

“Well, that was really it,” she said, hopping off the bed. “Oh, if you’re really rewriting the Kama Sutra, did you see that thing Pickles said he can do?”

“Which thing Pickles said he can do?” Ganesh asked, but Raziel just grinned and departed.

“I don’t even wanna THINK about it!” Sariel told him. And he gave his wings a very, very big flap.

Ganesh drifted off to the other room to wash up.

"I don't understand, Ganesh. How the fuck can he be her father."

"The usual way. I would expect," Ganesh called over the sound of running water.

"Yeah. But he's so.... And she's so...."

"He is a soldier. One of their most famous. So in that manner, she is his daughter."

"Yeah. But. She's a clown!"

"She acts a clown."

"I've known her a long fucking time. It's no act."

Ganesh had started humming. He had a very pleasant voice.

Sariel wondered if his Ganesh had hummed before, and he just hadn't noticed it.

"Ganesh?"

"Mmmmm?"

"Did you want kids?"

There was silence. After a moment, Ganesh came back to the bedroom.

"If you didn't hear me, I asked-" Sariel started.

"I heard."

"And...?"

"Er."

"OK. That wasn't on the list of responses I was seeking. Yes, or no, or possibly maybe: those are acceptable responses."

"Well, it's simply.... I just.... I suppose...."

"Ganesh! You routinely tell me with infinite precision exactly where you would like me to place my dick. Why can't you generate a single English sentence about this? You went to fucking Oxford for chrissakes!"

"Sariel. You don't like children."

"Yes. I know that."

Ganesh blinked. "Well, as I have chosen a life with you..."

Sariel crossed his arms and flexed his wings. "I don't recall having this discussion!"

"No, because I decided...."

"This is how you got a 100% record of acquittal for your clients? Deciding they were guilty and giving the fuck up?"

"No! I simply.... I do not wish a life like Uncle Brahma and Auntie Sarasvati, with us shouting across the table at each other!"

"I'M NOT SHOUTING! Well, actually, I guess I am shouting."

Ganesh sighed. Sariel extended a wing, and he sat down inside it.

"Believe me, and I have fucked up way more relationships an you have, you don't decide stuff unilaterally! It's bad." Sariel told him.

"OK."

"Did you want kids?"

"Whatever brought this up?"

"No changing the subject!"

"No shouting!"

"All right."

"Maybe."

"So is that an I don't know maybe, or do you mean yes, but you think this would be a better way to start the argument?"

"I don't even know what we'd do! Unless I could find a spell to turn you into a female for nine months."

"Oh no! Not me! What if you can't fucking turn me back?"

"I must admit, I do have some trepidation over the thought of you experiencing PMS," Ganesh grinned.

"Eh, we'll figure it out. We'll just ask Raziel. She seems to be into popping out kids now."

"Popping out...? Well, you would definitely be the one to ask her, as you obviously possess the diplomatic skills."

"Speaking of Raziel, why don't we defer any decision for now?"

"Because of Raziel? I'm sorry?"

"She'll be popping out her evil twins soon."

"Sariel, for the last time, as qualified medical professional, I can assure you! Babies do not pop out!"

"Anyway, if that doesn't put you off kids forever, we can talk about it."



Samael sat with Murderface, out in the gardens.

"If there are no further delays," Sariel grumbled as he and Raziel approached.

"Oh, I wasn't the one delaying for make up sex!" Raziel snorted.

"It wasn't make up sex! It was thanks clobbering my asshole father sex!"

"How is that different?"

"And he had in his right hand seven stars: and out of his mouth went a sharp twoedged sword: and his countenance was as the sun shineth in his strength.
And when I saw him, I fell at his feet as dead. And he laid his right hand upon me, saying unto me, Fear not; I am the first and the last,"
Samael intoned.

"Would you guysch quit being aschholes and tell me what the fuck he'sch schaying?" Murderface pleaded.

"Sorry, William," Raziel told him. "I talked to him for an hour this morning. He keeps raving about killing people with a sword. It's pretty cool, but I can't make heads or tails of it."

"What does this have to do with producing our fucking album?" Sariel grumbled.

"This one's about fucking?" Raziel laughed. "Aren't they usually about sticking your brains in a meat grinder."

Sariel glared at her. "No." He sighed and shrugged. "Actually, it's more crap Nathan cribbed from your Book."

Raziel frowned. "'When there is silence in Circles Above/And the angels rise in the South/Then Her Blade shall bring death to Him,'" she quoted.

She looked down. Samael was at her feet, touching the hem of her dress.

"Lady. You stayed my hand once. I will stay yours," he said.

She crouched down and held his shoulders. "Samael. I promise you. I'm not going after Him. Now or ever." She patted her stomach. "I've got responsibilities now."

And Dick Knubbler was there. Looking exhausted.

"Hey, Dick," Murderface told him. "Let'sch take a ride or schomething. I schaw schome blackbirdsch over in the orchard. Maybe we could go schoot them?"

With Bagheera padding at their heels, (the white tiger having taken a special shine to the unappreciative Murderface), the two men departed.

"Great. Buckshot in my apple pies," Raziel grinned.

"You didn't really mean that."

"You understood?"

"I've been picking up a bit of Common from my, uh, new employees."

“The Book supposedly prophesizes that I’ll kill Him. That’s what Lucifer was claiming. But, I don’t’ believe anything that asshole says.”

“But I thought….”

"Look. Sariel. I talked with Wotan."

"Wotan?" It was Sariel's turn to look offended.

Raziel nodded. "You know, my husband? He said if i needed to, I should. After the twins were born. But, to what point?"

"I thought we were going to go after him together?" Sariel's sounded betrayed.

Raziel caught his hands, and then waited for him to meet her eyes. "Sariel. I'm sorry. I should have told you too. It's just, there's more than just the two of us now. I've got a lot of people depending on me. You too. And, depriving my kids of a mom? Because I didn't have a mom? Don't you think there's an element of idiocy there?"

"Raziel. He deserves it! It's justice!"

“We don’t know the whole story!”

“You saw the vision of Him killing Her!”

“How do you know She didn’t deserve it? And, how do you know She’s even dead? You said She came to you, in your vision!”

“I don’t know what that was. I don’t know.”

"OK, look at it this way. When you thought Ganesh was gone, and you killed Raphael, what did it do? I mean, it's good we got him, but don't you remember? You nearly-"

"It's our purpose, Raziel?"

"It's THEIR purpose! It's their purpose for us! And, they were lying to us!"

"You've changed!"

"Yes." Raziel sighed and let go his hands. "Look. At least promise me you'll talk to Ganesh about this."

"I don't need his fucking permission."

"You're not asking permission. You're fucking talking to him. He's changed you too, you know."

"I haven't changed." He scowled at the floor for a while, but it refused to budge.

"Ganesh isn't like Eototo. He isn't like...."

"Please don't mention that name."

"OK."

"He wants kids!"

"Who? Ganesh?" Raziel asked, suddenly brightening. "That’s…. Oh, wait. You hate kids."

"I know I hate kids!"

"What are you gonna do?"

Sariel shook his head.

Raziel patted her stomach. "Maybe when my kids come...."

"That's what I told him."

"What did you tell him?"

"He might.... “ He looked at her slyly. “Reevaluate."

Raziel was grinning.

"They're going to be horrible. Aren't they?" Sariel's tone was a little bit hopeful.

"Terrifying!” Raziel told him. “Spoiled, absolutely rotten! Incorrigible. The girl will be the spitting image of me!"

"You promise?"

"I promise."

"Raziel?"

"Yes?"

"Phanuel?"

Raziel actually seemed to choke up, if only for a brief moment. "You don't know how relieved I was. Since Tzaphkiel told us. About Her. I've.... I've killed Seraphim."

"They needed killing,” Sariel told her.

"Maybe so."

"I still might have to resort to parricide. If Ganesh doesn't for it for me."

"Jacque? I sort of like him."

"Yeah. Me too. Is that weird?"

Raziel grinned.

"How is Phanuel?" Sariel asked. "He seems a little depressing."

"Oh, he's OK." Raziel grabbed Sariel's arm and began to drag him away. "You need to get a couple drinks in him."

"Aw shit! He's not drinking up all Wotan's single malt?"

"Actually, YOUR Papa has given him a taste for rum."

"My Papa?"

"He's a bad influence."

"Oh. Cool."



Pickles had finally been let off the fucking horse.

And into a fucking swamp.

“Doods! It’s a feckin’ swamp here!” he announced.

“Well where do you think slime demons hang out anyway, Pickles? Be reasonable!”

“Why da feck are we doin’ dis agen?”

“Because you need to kill a fucking demon!”

Pickles sighed. He watched Nathan and Skwisgaar dismount, both go sinking ankle-deep into the boggy ground, and both take out big ass swords.

He looked down at his own big ass sword. He wasn’t even sure he could lift it, much less slay some fucking monster.

There was a flash of light. Skwisgaar pointed at some motion. “Looks!” he said.

There were definitely some weird little creatures scuttling about.

Pickles stared. They looked like little marshmallows with legs. Well. Maybe marshmallows you’d left out in the sun for a month and they’d kind of gotten hard and dirty and moldy.

“OW! Goddammit, that one BIT ME!” Nathan growled. He hefted his sword, and the weird little thing skillfully ducked.

Skwisgaar too swung and missed, overbalancing and ending up on his ass in the bog.

“Ha!” said Nathan. And then, “OW! Another fucker bit me!”

Pickles dropped his sword. He fished into his back pocket. He brought out his drumsticks.

He waited.

A moldy marshmallow hopped into view.

And was skillfully skewered. “Ha-“ Pickles started.

It popped. Like a zit. Like an extremely ripe zit. Throwing the resultant mushroom cloud of yellowy, sticky goo all over Pickles, as well as Skwisgaar and Nathan.

“Ugh,” Skwisgaar said. “I ams t’inks I gots some in my mouths.”

“Doods,” said Pickles. “C’n we go home an’ git beers now?”



Ganesh had examined Lady Tazphkiel's aura, as he now did each week. She seemed particularly strong this week, after her encounter with Jacque, a fact which appeared to annoy Sariel, so Ganesh had avoided mentioning it. He now sat with her, out in the garden, in the warm early spring, along with Sariel, who was reading his novel, and Lady Raziel, who had knitting needles, and a project now unraveling all over her belly. The latter had been chattering about this and that, which also seemed to amuse Tzaphkiel, despite having the opposite effect on her son.

"When the children come...." Raziel was prattling.

"Did you realize I already know your children, my dear," Tzaphkiel told her.

"Oh?"

"I have the gift of prophecy."

"That's interesting." Raziel shot a glance at Sariel, who frowned into his novel. "I think Sariel gets prophetic dreams, don't you?"

Sariel grunted.

"i cannot show you all I know. But, would you like to see some of what I can see?" Tazphkiel asked.

Raziel actually paused. Though it went against her every angelic instinct (angels don't tend to be terribly resistant to temptation), she thought maybe she should turn Tzaphkiel down, as it would be like peeking at Christmas presents.

"Of course she wants to see!" Sariel, who was a great shaker of wrapped presents, suddenly piped up.

Tzaphkiel smiled a glorious smile at Sariel. And then, to everyone's surprise, she stood.

Things seemed to grow very silent and still.

She gently swept out her hand.

There were three figures. Not two.

They looked to be teenagers.

The girl could only have been a daughter of Raziel. She was already taller, but she had Raziel's dark hair and fair skin. She had her arms crossed and was scowling with Wotan's ice blue eyes.

The boy standing in the middle was definitely a son of Odin, tall, with red-blond hair, an easygoing expression and Wotan's gorgeous eyes.

He had one arm lightly hooked around the girl, and his other over the shoulder of another boy. This boy was shorter, and slender, with dark coloring. This boy looked over at Raziel's daughter and flashed a smile. A large smile.

It seemed too big for his handsome face.

And then they were gone, and Tzaphkiel was sitting, smiling, tired, in the chair.

Ganesh exhaled. He found he had been holding his breath. He started to say something. He looked at Lady Raziel, who seemed quite frozen to her seat. Then he looked to Sariel.

The angel was standing, his novel forgotten on the ground.

And then Sariel seemed to come back to himself. He seized the book, sat down, and started furiously reading.

"Th- thank you, Lady," Raziel finally said.



Sariel had seemed moody after their visit with Lady Tzaphkiel, so Ganesh had left him to be alone for a time. While wandering the halls of Valhalla, the god found, despite Wotan's entreaties to the contrary, Pickles and Nathan were playing cards with Lady Raziel.

"She's pregnant!" Nathan had reasoned. "Pregnant chicks DON'T CHEAT."

At Wotan's insistence, however, they played for matchsticks. Raziel had amassed sufficient firepower to light up a Brazilian rainforest.

I'm GROWING A BEARD!" Nathan announced proudly.

"Congratulations, Nathan. Might I ask the occasion?"

"Charles told me to!"

Ganesh rubbed his smooth chin, feeling more than slightly annoyed. He noticed both Nathan and Pickles seemed to have something in their hair, as if they had washed it but not quite gotten all of it out. It looked like … marshmallow?

"Might I ask you something?" he politely inquired. He was, somewhat against his inclinations, ushered to a seat, and, to his surprise, given an entire box of matches. ("You'll go through 'em fast," Nathan assured him.)

"I had wondered about that room next to Sariel's at Mordhaus. It is quite commodious, and yet he seems reluctant...." He paused, watching them exchange mysterious glances.

"Yes. He made dat room fer a reason," Pickles allowed.

Raziel leaned forward and grinned. "She Who Must Not Be Named." Nathan shuddered, clutching at his cards.

"I'm sorry. Who?"

"Da ex, dood," Pickles supplied.

"The... Oh."

More glances. "He didn't tell you HE WAS MARRIED?" Nathan finally asked.

"He prob'bly blacked it out, dood," Pickles muttered, taking a rather large suck on his beer.

"Maybe we should let Sariel tell him...." Raziel said. Pickles and Nathan nodded. "Sariel has had some disasters, but this one...." She rolled her eyes, and then leaned forward conspiratorially. "Sooooo, you know why Sariel went to law school?"

Ganesh shook his head.

"He had some money. And a business. Being our age, you almost have to be stupid not to have a bit of money. And then....” More eye rolling. “Basically, anything you can imagine, she did it to him. Capped by fucking one of his rivals. And getting pregnant."

"The child, er, wasn't his?" Ganesh heard himself asking. Raziel shook her head. Ganesh felt oddly relieved.

Raziel continued. "And then when I finally pulled him off the floor and kept him away from his nose candy for enough time to sign the papers to divorce her ass, she took EVERYTHING. I mean, she pretty much slapped on the rubber glove and went up his ass for a body cavity search. Skin and bones. That's all that was left. Skin and bones."

The card game had come to a halt, Nathan and Pickles now sat mournfully sipping beers and nodding.

"Yeh. We shud prolly let Charles tell him," Pickles allowed.

"Is she human, then?" Ganesh asked.

"Yeh, dood."

"I'm pretty sure she's human," Raziel said. "She's just evil."

"So...?" urged Ganesh.

"An' dat's when he started workin' wit' us," Pickles explained. "An', I knew he wuz some kinda soopernacheral or somethin'."

"I didn't," Nathan interjected, scratching his beard.

"But I didn't know he wuz married or nothin'. But, after we hit it big, we were buildin' Mordhaus..."

"We were PLANNING it. It took much planning. It was a very brutal time! They messed up on the wainscoting! Death metal musicians are very particular about our paneling!"

"Yeh. Took a while. Anyway, dis chick shows up. An', she's old an' shit, but she's still hot...."

"Skwisgaar would totally do her."

"Oo. Did he doo her? Dat would've been weird. Anyways. An', we couldn' figger it out, 'cause, yoo know, Charles don' talk about personal shit anyway. Oh, an', she didn' call him Charles. She called him Tom. Tim? Tom ... Teffrey? Jaffrey? Somethin'."

"Seemed like she was gonna slither back in, you know?" Nathan noted, his eyes narrowing.

"Yeah, an' it kept changin'. Wuz gonna be da room, an den it was a house somewhere? Or wuz it da udder way? Anyway, den jest, one day, da room is locked, and dat's it."

"I thought maybe we would've found a BODY in there. That would've been cool," Nathan grinned. "But, we should probably let CHARLES tell the story."

"You guys don't know what happened, in other words?" Ganesh smiled.

"No, dude," Nathan sighed.

"But, yoo gotta tell us when yoo find out!" Pickles told him hopefully.

"I'm not completely clear it was legal, anyway," Raziel put in. "I mean, under human law. I don't think he's ever divorced any of the other ones."

""Er, the other.... Well. Maybe some other time," Ganesh concluded. He considered his cards. "It all just seems a bit...."

"Now, I wouldn' worry dere, Gannish dood. I don't t'ink she was nothin' special."

"Really? Then, why...?"

"I dunno, dood. Seemed like he jest wanted t' be normal fer a while."

"Normal?"

"Yeh. Like, fergit da angel crap an’ jest be human."

"PICKLES!" Nathan thundered.

"Wut, dood?"

"That is veering very close to GIVING A SHIT."

"Oh. Yeh. Yer raight. Sahry."



He had bummed the cigarette from Pickles.

He had forgotten to bum a light however. As Sariel no longer smoked, he no longer found occasion to carry a matchbook.

Why did he keep having this thought? No, two thoughts. That was what disturbed him. Ganesh will have a child. It was scary and thrilling, all by itself, like being in an elevator when the cable had been cut. Stomach-churning.

He held the cigarette, imagining he might magick up a light.

Ganesh will have a son. It was obvious. It was too obvious. That was why none of them had bothered to comment.

How long had it been since he’d smoked a cigarette? It had been months now.

Ganesh will have a child.

Why two thoughts? Why the second so close after the first?

He fumbled the cigarette, and it fell. He stared at it.

Ganesh will have a boy.

After I’m gone.




Mordhaus....

New age crystal crap.

Elegba doffed his hat. "So, they tell me you were the one who broke my fucking spell?" he inquired of Ganesh, courteously extending a hand.

"I couldn't break it. That would have been impossible," Ganesh explained, shaking Elegba's hand. "I counteracted it."

"Whoa. That's some powerful shit. You've been practicing Santeria long?"

"No, in fact, not prior to this ... incident. My family are all practitioners of magic, but, as I am a vegetarian, I had not strayed into your realm."

And then they were off chattering like a couple of magical old lady douche bags. Sariel sighed softly and sat down on the bed. It actually looked about the right size in this new room. Ganesh had decided that he needed to drive away negative energies or some bullcrap. Sariel suspected loudmouth Raziel had let him in on the origins of the suite, but found he didn't much care any more. He had tried to convince Ganesh that whatever un-mellow vibrations persisted from She-Who could be swiftly expelled by a few days passed cheerfully fucking like rabbits, but the god had insisted on this consultation. Partially because, Sariel suspected, he wanted to B.S. about spells with Elegba. Well, whatever.

He lay back on the bed, and felt into his jacket pocket. He turned the CD over in his hands. It was the Dethklok recording the other Dick Knubbler had gotten him from the other universe - he had almost forgotten about it. Ganesh had thoughtfully already hooked up the stereo system, though it was still resting on the carpet while he ordered some suitably tasteful furniture. The stereo cabinet was probably being assembled by gnomes in the Swiss Alps or some shit. Too lazy to bother sitting up, Sariel pushed off the bed close enough he could just reach the CD player with his arms extended. Then he flipped out whatever dance trance crap CD Was already in there, and inserted his CD.

And then he touched play.

It was amazing, even for Dethklok.

But then Nathan’s voice kicked in, and it became a different song.

And he was in a different place. Transported.

And there was something….

The music had stopped.

They were both standing over him, Elegba with a hand on the stereo, Ganesh with the disk in his hands.

"Where the fuck did you get this?" Ganesh demanded.

Sariel turned over and sat up. He found his thoughts had become a bit foggy. "It's Dethklok. What the fuck?"

"It ain't a recording. It's a fucking invocation," Elegba told him.

"What?"

"Would you say, like a post-hypnotic suggestion?" Ganesh asked Elegba.

"Only more fucking powerful," Elegba told him.

"What does it do? In English?" Sariel asked.

“It’s a magical command, Sariel. One you can’t refuse.”

"Usually makes some poor cocksucker do something,” Elegba added. “Something terrible."

Sariel grabbed for the disk. He looked between the two men. The fog cleared. He pulled out his phone.

“Dick? It’s Charles. We’ve got to delete the album. Everything. No, everything. I don’t fucking care: burn it. I want them to start over. Fuck it, we’ve done it before. Yes, master tapes, everything, I don’t want a trace.”

He was out in the hallway. He needed to walk. “Wotan? I need you to keep Raziel away from here ‘till the kids are born. Yes. I’ll explain later. It’s very important. It’s gotten really dangerous. No, some kind of spell, I don’t totally understand it myself. Look, I’ll call you later, I’ll try and explain. Later.”

He found himself at Nathan’s door. He entered without bothering to knock. Nathan was drowsing, entangled in groupies.

“I need the Book.”

Nathan yawned and pointed to the nightstand. Sariel grabbed the Book, being careful to secure all the pages that Nathan had ripped out.

“I need everything you have for the new album. Your notes, anything.”

“Lady Raz had me gather all that crap last week.” He scratched his beard and pointed to his bureau.

“This is everything?”

“What the fuck, Charles?”

“Nathan. This is REALLY IMPORTANT. Is this everything?”

Nathan nodded groggily and started to pull on some pants. “Charles! What the fuck are you doing?”

He had the book and the notes in hand, and was hurrying down the corridors. Fireplace. Good. He knelt down on the hearth. He started with the pages Nathan had ripped out.

“Charles-“ But Nathan found himself stayed by Ganesh. He and Elegba had followed.

Sariel went through each page, making sure it burned to ash. And then he was ripping pages himself, tearing them and frantically burning them. He choked. The smoke was thick, maybe because the book was so old.

“You’re not going to get her. You bastard. Not while I’m alive,” he told the fire.

He looked up at Ganesh, ashes and tears now staining his face. “Get William. Go down and make sure Dick destroys everything.” Ganesh nodded and departed. He was ripping and burning, ripping and burning. “Is there something you can do….? The ashes?” he asked Elegba. The tall man crouched down next to him. He nodded.

“There are ways to secure it. Do not worry.”

“Charles,” Nathan said. “Man.” He was crouching down now too. “You know, dude, that’s our bread and butter.”

Charles nodded.

They watched the fire burn away the magic.



Many years ago....

Lady Tzaphkiel walked down the hallways of the library.

Her library.

It was the most wonderful place in all existence. Her aides, the Ophanim, wheeled about her joyfully as she walked.

After her lovely Sisters had gone, and she was the last left of the original Four, she had come here, to tend to the stories. They had every story here, whether told in whispers by the fireside, or scrawled on foolscap with a smudging ink pen.

There were lonely times here, true. How she missed her Sisters.

But she was not all alone. She had sensed it for many months now.

At night, in her bedchamber, when the lights were off, and she was just drifting off to sleep.
She was there waiting at her bedside. It was so sweet to be once again in Her presence.

And then one extraordinary night, She spoke.

"Tzaphkiel, my beautiful Daughter. There is something I would have you do for me."

"Anything for you, Lady. Anything."



The place was very far away. Even for an angel like Tzaphkiel, the journey was long.

He was standing by the seaside, leaning over a balcony, glowering at the sea, smoking a cigar. He stood up when she appeared.

The Lady was right. He was so beautiful.

And he was waiting for her.

He stared in wonder.

"Tzaphy? How can it be you? It can't be you!"

He approached her, as one might a scared bird. But she found she wasn't scared. His hand reached and so tentatively played with a tendril of her hair. "Hair like starlight. It must be you. Oh how I've missed you. Just.... Say you'll come here every night and let me look at you, touch your hair. Say you'll do that."

It was like a dream, even then, even when she was living it, her days by the seaside with Jacque. They would sit on the balcony, overlooking the sea, and sip rum. And then they would go to his room. He was intoxicating, all physical presence. She loved seeing herself through his eyes, feeling his desire for her in all its rawness.

She loved how he touched her. All of her existence, Tzaphkiel had been treated like a fragile thing. But Jacque treated her differently, treated her like a precious thing, strong and gentle with her, all at once.

Sometimes, when they were out on the deck, sipping rum, his companion would come to join them. A tall man, who always politely tipped his hat to her. He would look at her, trying to hide the suspicion in his eyes.

Then one day, Jacque was standing in back of her, his arms around her, hands on her now bulging belly, and she felt the stirring, the new soul awakening, a moment of perfect happiness.

They came that night. So many of them. They took her away, took her to a place without sunlight. She ached for the sun, ached for her lover, while they whispered of the sin, the danger.

The birth was horrifying. She never saw him. Never touched him. They told her they had taken it far away, where it could pose no danger.

She was still bleeding when they threw her back in her bed. Her old bed. Under the library.

That night - that very night - as she lay, fitful and feverish, She came to sit by the side of Tzaphkiel's bed.

"Lady. Lady. They took him away from me. He was a monster. A misshapen thing. Oh, what have I done? What have I done?"

"Then he is born?" She demanded.

"Lady...." Tazphkiel could barely speak. The grief. The fatigue. “Yes.”

The Lady was standing.

"Then he is come," She said. "My Blade."

And She was gone.

That was the last time Tazphkiel ever saw Her face.

Date: 2011-03-22 12:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] dj-the-writer.livejournal.com
The her is ... his mother? Anyway, awesome chapter, totally sweet, totally sad about Charles's prophecy though.

Interesting note (to me anyway): The old testament term for 'prophet' (which is Navi, plurim Nevi'im) doesn't refer to someone who can see the future. It refers to someone who talks to G-d, as in he/she hears G-d directly. So almost everyone in the Torah is a prophet by default because G-d talks to a lot of people, though it's noted that Moses's prophecy was special, because everyone else had to go into kind of a trance to hear G-d's voice whereas Moses didn't and had him on speed dial.

The whole prophecy/future mythos comes from the fact that G-d had a tendency to tell the people famous for being prophets the future, or tell them to tell everyone what the future would be if they didn't get their act together (which they never did). But it doesn't actually relate to a person's ability to see the future. They just HEAR about it from G-d.

I don't know where the whacky Christians get it.

Date: 2011-03-22 04:15 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
Anyway, awesome chapter, totally sweet, totally sad about Charles's prophecy though.

Thank you.

Date: 2011-03-22 12:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] zsomeone.livejournal.com
...and we have fallen several more levels through wtf. I WANT TO KNOW MORE.

Also, carnivorous marshmellow demons.

Date: 2011-03-22 12:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
This one is sort of a 4-chapter arc. But, sort of not.

Also, carnivorous marshmellow demons.

But they only seem to like Nathan. Maybe he tastes good to marshmallows? :D

Date: 2011-03-22 03:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wikdsushi.livejournal.com
Sariel didn't mean to scare his other self, but the man jumped in his office chair and gripped his chest. "Jesus fucking Christ, don't do that!"

"Sorry."

"S'okay." Charles adjusted his glasses. "I, uh, assume this isn't a social---"

"Can I borrow your daughter?"

Charles narrowed his eyes. "Do I get her back?"

Sariel nodded. As he did, his gaze moved to the side. "I just wanna. . . Is it worth it?"

". . . Huh?"

"Kids. I mean, you wanted them, and all that fuckery. It's not like you or, uh, Toki woke up one day and peed on a stick and it turned blue."

"Well, he helped me with, uh, my part with Alexis." Charles smirked, though it faded. "I, uh, I never thought I wanted them, but, you know, Toki. If he wanted me to sprout wings, I'd find a way to do it. Not that he does." Charles cleared his throat. "But, yeah. Kids are great. I wouldn't give up the girls for anything."

"Yeah, that's what I figured." Sariel slumped in the chair across from his counterpart. It was still eerie, looking into a human--literally human--mirror. His mirror scowled.

"You okay?"

"Yeah."

"Your guy. The guy who kissed me. Gandalf---"

"Ganesh."

"Yeah. Him. He, uh---"

"Look, just. . . don't ask. Don't. Fucking. Ask."

Charles narrowed his eyes and opened a drawer in his desk. From it he took what looked like a bottle of amontillado as old as he was, and two glasses. One he filled less than halfway. The other nearly slopped over when he slid it across the desk.

They drank in silence, and once Charles put the bottle away, he pressed a button on his phone. "Doris, can you, uh, get one of the Klokateers to bring Rigyn in here? She's got a visitor."

"Yes, sir. It's not the girl and her mother from the gun show, is it?"

"From the what?"

"You should probably talk to Lord Wartooth, sir. I'll have her brought in."

Charles frowned. With barely a glance at Sariel, he scribbled something on a Post-It. "I have got to get a weekend off," he muttered as he stuck it to his desk.

"Are you happy?" Sariel said.

Charles met his gaze. "Very."

Well. At least one of them was.

Sariel just wished it were him.

A couple of silent, uncomfortable minutes passed between them. Sariel wondered what his other self was really liked. They had never really talked. It seemed like it would be weird. He knew, vaguely, that Charles was a lapsed Catholic, but their lack of discussion on the subject seemed deliberate, and Sariel wasn't about to admit that in his universe, he had been the one to strike 40 particular silver coins (during a brief lull in the lyre industry). If nothing else, he wanted to keep seeing Rigyn and Alexis, who, he supposed, were the closest thing to children he would ever have--though Ganesh would have at least one better.

Don't think about it, he told himself. You'll just make it harder when you have to go.

The door opened. Sariel refused to look as a Klokateer said, "Your daughter, sire."

"Angel Daddy!" Rigyn ran over to Sariel's chair and climbed up in his lap. She had grown--a lot--and had to scrunch into his lap. He put his arms around her, though she looked up and frowned. "You ams sad, Angel Daddy?"

"Not anymore, Bumblebee," he said, no matter what Charles would think of him using Rigyn's nickname. "Not anymore."

Date: 2011-03-22 04:25 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
I'm glad Sariel found a place to go. I sort of made him sad this time.

Gandalf? *snerk*

My iPad won't let me quote, but I liked the sprouting wings comment too.

Date: 2011-03-22 04:07 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
Oh, and it's 30 pieces of silver. And that's the one thing I wouldn't agree Sariel would do. He and Raziel think the Creator is a dick, but they sort of have a soft spot for his son. That, and I think Sariel would end up horribly, horribly burned if he tried to to metalwork.

Date: 2011-03-22 04:30 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wikdsushi.livejournal.com
This is why I shouldn't do things while sleep-deprived. I kinda figured Sariel had struck the coins, then found out later they'd been used to, y'know, assassinate one of his buddies. Oops.

Sounds like Sariel has my luck with hot things. I made an outright enemy in a silversmithing class once when I fumbled a lit torch right against her bare arm.

Date: 2011-03-22 05:08 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
This is why I shouldn't do things while sleep-deprived.

No, it was a very sweet little piece, very much in line what I was thinking about where Sariel's head is right now.

I haven't really dealt with this from Ganesh's point of view, but remember, Shiva banished Skanda, so he's kind of IT in terms of his family's bloodline.

Date: 2011-03-22 06:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wikdsushi.livejournal.com
Heh, I meant my memory for details tends to lapse. :) Poor Sariel. Weirdly, after I wrote this, I was kinda stuck in his hopeless place for a while. It really sucks!

Poor Ganesh. I hope he finds a way to knock Sariel up. Or something. (Hey, Ganesh! Whaddya say to nine months or so in maternity couture?)

What's the gestation period for a deity, anyway?

Date: 2011-03-22 07:04 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
I know. It sort of makes me wanna do anything else when I get to writing sad stuff. The good part is I cleaned out my closet this weekend to avoid writing Chapter 40.

What's the gestation period for a deity, anyway?

I'm just sticking with 9 months in this universe. I think it would just be too damned complicated elsewise. And I used the old superstition that the soul gets there when it starts kicking.

Date: 2011-03-22 07:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sike-saner.livejournal.com
“What the fucking fuck?” Jacque squalled. “Sharl! Will you pull this guy off me?”

Sariel was beside Ganesh, grinning. “Uh, I think the answer to that is, no.”


X3

He found himself feeling warm and happy and loving to all creatures. Especially a creature that could potentially fetch him a dry martini.

Liked that bit.

You routinely tell me with infinite precision exactly where you would like me to place my dick. Why can't you generate a single English sentence about this?

Also that bit. X3

I'M NOT SHOUTING!

Anything along the lines of "I'm not shouting" in all caps will pretty much always be funny. XD

Though it went against her every angelic instinct (angels don't tend to be terribly resistant to temptation), she thought maybe she should turn Tzaphkiel down, as it would be like peeking at Christmas presents.

"Of course she wants to see!" Sariel, who was a great shaker of wrapped presents, suddenly piped up.


Particularly liked that part as well, especially the description of Sariel as "a great shaker of wrapped presents". X3 That was great.

And oh God. The slime demons. XD Moldy marshmallow zits. That's nasty and hilarious and... glorious. Just glorious.

Date: 2011-03-22 04:11 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
You routinely tell me with infinite precision exactly where you would like me to place my dick. Why can't you generate a single English sentence about this?

Ganesh is one of those people who has a lot of trouble asking for what he wants. Er, unless it includes a dick. Or a martini. :D

And oh God. The slime demons. XD Moldy marshmallow zits. That's nasty and hilarious and... glorious. Just glorious.

Poor Nathan. He just wanted to play Viking to cheer up Pickles, and now he has goopy marshmallow in his beard!

Date: 2011-03-23 03:08 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] nugatorytm.livejournal.com
Sariel, Sariel, Sariel...there are potentially a million reasons why there is a third child standing there that looks like the son of Ganesh. As usual, Sariel leaps to conclusions.

Unfortunately, destroying the Book isn't gonna do much good. The band can recreate that music any time they wanted, it's in their heads.

Date: 2011-03-23 03:35 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
Sariel, Sariel, Sariel...there are potentially a million reasons why there is a third child standing there that looks like the son of Ganesh. As usual, Sariel leaps to conclusions.

To be fair to him, as Raziel implies, Sariel has a bit of a knack for prophetic visions himself.

And, there is a reason Tzaphkiel showed this one to him.

Unfortunately, destroying the Book isn't gonna do much good. The band can recreate that music any time they wanted, it's in their heads.

That's part of the reason he's ordered Raziel to stay way from Mordhaus. He believes the spell was meant for her.

Date: 2011-03-23 04:04 am (UTC)
ext_341900: (pensive)
From: [identity profile] senoritafish.livejournal.com
Oh. And now we see why Sariel is silver - although you did say before what his eyes resembled. And maybe why you were cleaning your closet. Dammit. I think we're out of kleeenex...am I going to need to back to the store?

Date: 2011-03-23 05:39 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] corvidmoon.livejournal.com
Just now catching up, sorry.

Poor Sariel, I wanna give him a hug! (although he'd probably disembowel me for my efforts)

So he is Her weapon, interesting this leads to all sorts of interesting implications, I think I'm going to enjoy where this goes.

Marshmallow Zits! Priceless!

Date: 2011-03-23 07:02 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] tikific.livejournal.com
Heehee. No, SARIEL AMS NOTS A HUGGER!

(Ganesh sorta cheats 'cause he's got all those extra arms.)

I suspect Raziel and Mommy are gonna need to have a little "talk." :D

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